Truthful Words in a Hidden Letter
by luvlegolotz aka AshleyD
Summary: Harry returns to the Burrow, but is it too late to save the only woman he's ever loved?


Harry couldn't sleep. He laid on the Weasley's couch, staring at the shadows dancing across the ceiling. He had never felt lonelier then he did at that very moment. There was an emptiness that echoed through him, reverberated deep through his soul.

She was gone.

He didn't know how it happened; the only thing that mattered that she wasn't there. And he knew it was his fault she was gone. It was his fault she wasn't snuggled warmly in her bed. It was his fault that he would never hold her in his arms again. It was his fault that he'd never tell her how he really felt. He didn't want to think about all the things she would have been doing if Harry hadn't been so stupid.

Wrapping the blankets even tighter around him, they began to slightly tickle his nose. A coldness was creeping through his bones, making him shiver. How long would he feel the pain this sharply? He had tried to protect her by staying away, but in the end, that's what killed her. If only he was there to protect her.

He sat up angrily on the couch, his messy hair falling into his eyes. He shoved his hair out of the way as he groped for his glasses. He couldn't stay here anymore. He couldn't just lie here and wait for the funeral tomorrow. He needed to feel her again, smell her, remember her as she was. Not as the dead husk she was now. But as the bright vibrant woman he had fallen in love with.

Finding hisglasses,he crammed them on his face. He stood up, throwing his blanket back on the couch. The silence of the Weasley house engulfed his senses, making him squint in the darkness. He'd never heard this house this quiet. He headed towards the kitchen, hoping to see some sign of life.

A small candle was flickering, indicating Harry wasn't alone. He turned the corner and saw Mrs. Weasley, sitting at her dining room table with a cup of tea.

"Harry, dear, what are you doing out of bed?" She asked quietly, not even looking up from her small china cup.

"You should be in bed." Harry sat down beside her, touching her arm softly. Mrs. Weasley glanced at his hand, then smiled sadly.

"I'm glad you're here Harry." She looked up into Harry's eyes. Harry quickly avoided them and pulled away his hand, not able to bring himself to face the pain he had caused this poor woman. "I know why you won't look me in the eyes." She took his hand and squeezed it. "You blame yourself for what happened to her."

Suddenly a memory drifted across Harry's consciousness which made him smile slightly. The tiny little eleven year old redhead bouncing down the stairs, expecting breakfast. He remembered her stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the famous Harry Potter sitting in her kitchen, eating with her brothers. He could almost hear her high pitched squeak as she turned bright red and retreated back up the stairs. Now, years later, the house seemed so empty without her presence.

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Weasley. If I had only been there when..." he started to apologize, but she quickly cut him off.

"Don't, Harry. You did nothing wrong. You loved my daughter and tried to protect her from being hurt. That's why you left. Am I right Harry?"

He stood up, letting go of Mrs. Weasley's hand, embarrassed of how transparently he had acted. Maybe that's what Voldemort expected all along...for him to leave the person he loved the most so Voldemort could have the pleasure of taking her away. "You should go to bed, Mrs. Weasley. It's going to be an early morning."

She nodded and stood up. "Alright, dear. I'll go to bed. But I want you to know no one in this household blames you. I've always loved you like a son. You are always welcome here. No matter what You-Know-Who threatens. You'll be stronger with us then if you're alone." She hugged him. "Think about it."

Harry was at a complete loss for words as he silently watched Mrs. Weasley blow out her candle and shuffle off to bed. He had no idea till that very moment how close a family he had here with the Weasleys. Even when their only daughter had died, they pulled together and accepted Harry to mourn with them.

A silence fell over the still house again, and Harry felt as if he was being swallowed up by it. To escape the numbing stillness, he started to climb the stairs. Harry knew her room was at the top of the stairs. He hadn't been in there since he left…it felt like years ago. Maybe, just maybe, he'd feel some comfort from opening her bedroom door…seeing how her room hadn't changed since he last left.

He opened the door slowly, hoping it wouldn't creek too loud. Stepping inside, he saw the window shade open, letting the moonlight spill into the room. He closed the door behind him softly and stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do next. The smell of the room intoxicated him; it smelled just like he remembered her.

"Oh, Ginny…" Harry sighed out loud, his pain almost unbearable. He sat down on her bed, touching her stuffed animals one by one. She had quite the collection, and a few of them were from Harry as well. Her bed was unmade, with her pillows strewn all over the bed and floor. But when he picked up her favorite pillow from her bed and hugged it close, something fell out of the pillowcase. The sharp edge hit Harry's ankle and made him jump. Glancing down, it appeared to be a white envelope. He picked it up and turned it over in the moonlight so he could read who it was addressed to. On the front, in Ginny's handwriting, was scribbled "Harry Potter." His heart jumped. She wrote him a letter before she died! He quickly tore it open, eager to hear what she wanted to tell him. He turned the small paper towards the moonlight, squinted his eyes as he started to read.

Dear Harry,

I don't think this letter will ever find you…I don't even have an inkling where you might be. But I had to write everything I was feeling down. Maybe just to confirm to myself that I still have normal feelings. Or maybe to confirm to you, Harry, that I'm not afraid anymore. Let Voldemort do what he wants. Did you see that Harry? I'm not afraid to say his name anymore. You gave me the strength to say his name. I don't want him to dictate how I live my life anymore. I don't want to be afraid to love you. I know you love me too, otherwise you wouldn't have left. But don't you see Harry? You're letting Voldemort win. By leaving me behind with not knowing what is going to happen tomorrow or five years from now. I'm hoping against hope it doesn't, but I want to see you alive again, Harry. I want to welcome you back with open arms and I want to love you freely and openly. I can't help that I fell in love with you, the incredible Harry Potter. We have been through so much together, I just don't understand why you have to go through this alone. Please, Harry, let me in. I want to help you. And love you with every fiber of my body.

Love,

Ginny Weasley

He sat back, examining her soft cursive. She was right. In every sentence, in every word she chose, it chilled Harry to the bone. Why did he stay away to protect her? Voldemort got to her anyway and killed her in cold blood. He held the letter to his chest, silent tears falling from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." He apologized, spreading his fingers over her soft bedspread. He glanced at her nightstand, seeing a picture of him holding her and smiling. Her smile was perfect, her hair slightly blowing in the wind. It surprised him how much that one picture reminded him of the few pictures he had of his parents.

How many people was Voldemort going to rip away from him? His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, and now Ginny? He knew not all of them died directly by his wand, but they might as well have.

A new resolve formed within Harry. "Ginny, I don't care how long it takes me, but I'm going to avenge your death. The only reason why you died is because I love you. Voldemort is going to die for what he did to you." He laid down, imagining the warmth that her small body would emit if she was curled up with him. Her room offered Harry a haven, a place to feel safe. No one could touch him here. Only she could. He surrendered his pain and anguish, finally allowing himself to weep into Ginny's pillow.

"I love you, Ginny. Please forgive me."


End file.
